Spring has sprung!

...and it sure doesn't mess around when it decides to show up!  The weather for the past few weeks has been absolutely gorgeous, sunny, and warm....the flowers are blooming, baby lambs are being born, and I'm actually getting a little bit of a tan from spending the past week outside during Easter vacation.  It's amazing how much better and happier Sweden becomes when springtime finally shows up.  In more good news, the daycare where I had an unpaid internship has hired me to work 20 hours per week, possibly up to 30, through summertime.  It's a huge difference not feeling like an unemployed crabby pregnant burden on M and having so much to look forward to this summer.  Here are a few photos from the past couple of weeks:

A brand-new lamb born on the farm on M's parent's island.

I've been getting crafty in anticipation of the baby Sweedie.

 M's new boat, Vixen, is all spiffed up and ready to start his new company.

Every day the buds on the trees are bursting bigger and greener.

You know spring is here when the forest is carpeted with blåsippor.

 More fuzzy buds.

View over the fields on the farm where we live.

Vitsippor everywhere!

Attack of the killer tomato sauce

So, can you guess the number one relationship clash that constantly rears it's ugly head between me and M?  Finances?  Children?  Marriage?  Future hopes and dreams?  Nope.  It's tomato sauce.  Both of us are completely appalled and offended by the other's use of all types of tomato-based products, including ketchup, salsa, spaghetti sauce, and pizza sauce.

It all started when I first got here and watched M sit down to a big plate of plain spaghetti noodles, squirt ketchup all over them, and start chowing down.  I was horrified...it looked absolutely disgusting.  He informed me calmly that "Ketchup was invented to put on pasta."  Oh really??  Swedes are indoctrinated into this gruesome practice in early childhood, making it seem normal and delicious.  Kids here go nuts for pasta with ketchup.  Barf.

A few months later I decided to make a nice spaghetti sauce from scratch, with fresh basil and oregano, wild mushrooms, ground moose meat, and I let it simmer for a good couple of hours.  What does M do?  Heaps a pile of pasta onto his plate, spoons a pile of spaghetti sauce next to the pasta to eat separately, and squirts ketchup all over the pasta.  *facepalm*

 Next it was my turn to offend M.  He made me a traditional and well-loved Swedish dish with the provocative name "Jansson's Temptation"...layers of sliced potatoes, onions, and anchovies baked in cream with bread crumbs on top.  Think a fancy, thicker version of scalloped potatoes.  It was good, but I thought it was a little bland, so I squirted some ketchup on the side and started dipping my potatoes into it.  M looked at me like I had just kicked his dog in the face.  He told me I was ruining the food and he never wanted to make it for me again.  The same thing happened when he made burgers from wild boar meat.  Burgers = ketchup, right?  WRONG.  Apparently burgers made from wild game are not to be "ruined" with ketchup, even though I thought it tasted great.

 We had some guests over for dinner recently and I made a cold Greek quinoa salad with sundried tomatoes, feta, kalamata olives, artichoke hearts, lemon juice, and red onions.  While I was making it, M started concocting a crushed-tomato based sauce on the stove that included chunks of moose meat and slabs of extra-fatty bacon.  When I asked what it was, he said it was "to your salad."  ?!?!?  I tried to calmly explain that I didn't think the flavors would work well together, but of course when dinner rolled around he smothered his portion of my fresh, cold salad with his greasy invention and claimed it to be delicious.

Don't even get me started on salsa usage in this household...when I put it on my scrambled eggs he looks like he's about to vomit, and I just turn the other way when he mixes it in with his pizza sauce.  As with all relationship compromises I suppose we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one and let the other person get on with their repulsive tomato sauce habits.

Baby, I can drive your car

Yay for me, I just finished all the insane expenses and meticulous hoop-jumping to get my Swedish driver's license.  I don't know if anyone besides non-EU expats in Sweden can really comprehend the giant wave of relief in getting this process over with, but it's been a pain in my ass for the past three months and now it's done.  Like I've explained a bit before, once an American has lived in Sweden for one year your driver's license becomes completely useless and you have to start from scratch like an 18-year-old.  The tests are tough and designed not to let bad drivers pass, although sometimes you wouldn't believe it by the amount of idiot drivers that continue to tear through the streets. 

To be honest, if you start early and take it one step at a time, the process isn't too horribly difficult if you've already been driving half your life and have a somewhat functional brain in your head.  The worst part is the unbelievable cost...I've been avoiding tallying up the whole thing but let's see what my final bill came out to be:

• Eye exam: SEK 100 ($15.81)
• Driving permit fee:  SEK 220  ($34.79)
• Driving books in English:  SEK 450  ($71.16)
• Online practice tests in English:  SEK 250  ($39.53)
• Mandatory 3-hour "Don't Drive Drunk" class:  SEK 500  ($79.07)
• Mandatory 4-hour slippery driving course: SEK 1700  ($268.82)
• Theory test fee:  SEK 220 ($34.79)
• Photograph fee: SEK 80  ($12.65)
• Driving school lessons in Ludvika: SEK 3,000  ($474.40)
• Train transportation to/from Ludvika:  SEK 523 ($82.70)
• Lodging in Ludvika: SEK 300  ($47.44)
• Driving test car rental fee:  SEK 220 ($34.79)
• Driving test fee:  SEK 700  ($110.69)
• Driver's license processing fee: SEK 180 ($28.46)

                                                              
Total cost: SEK 8443, or $1,335.43 USD.  Wow.  I kind of wish I hadn't added that up just now.  But, there's really now way around it, we live out in the boonies and it just wouldn't work here without a driver's license.   And while it does seem unfair for people who can't afford it, I like the fact that driving here is a hard-earned privilege that you have to do well instead of something that practically gets handed to you on your sixteenth birthday.

Swedes are the same way with owning dogs...there are hardly any strays here due to the fact that dogs are expensive to buy and own so people take very good care of them.

Anyway, my next goal is to convince M that my newly acquired Swedish driver's license means there's no excuse for me not to be able to take a spin in his sweet '67 Mustang Fastback:

So far I have only been allowed to be an accessory blonde passenger in this bad boy.  I think it's time for M to hand over the keys.